


Guide Me Home

by through_shadows_falling



Series: Supernatural Ficlets [68]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Airports, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blind Dean Winchester, Emotional, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, M/M, Reunions, Soldier Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-18
Updated: 2017-04-18
Packaged: 2018-10-20 13:27:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10663593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/through_shadows_falling/pseuds/through_shadows_falling
Summary: Dean hated airports, and hated flying.But today, he wasn’t the one flying. His husband was, and Cas was returning from overseas after being deployed for ten months.Dean was beyond ready to hold him again.





	Guide Me Home

**Author's Note:**

> For an anon who requested: "Destiel, blind Dean at the airport!!"

Dean hated airports.

He preferred traveling by car, and avoided flying in the cramped, metal sky-tubes that would shake and give off strange odors and freak the hell out of him every time.

But today, he wasn’t the one flying. His husband was, and Cas was returning from overseas after being deployed for ten months.

Dean was beyond ready to hold him again.

At his side, his brother Sam shifted, dragging Dean along since Dean was latched to his arm. Dean’s ‘legally blind’ status had fully set in, and now he could make out only shapely blobs and flashes of light. Because of that, Sam had driven them here, and existed now as an anchor so Dean wouldn’t get swept away by the tide of people entering the baggage claim area.

Already, a headache pounded in Dean’s temples from the rush of smells and sounds. A cloying mixture of disinfectant, body odor, leather, food grease, gasoline, and rubber filled the air, along with loud and unintelligible announcements barked from the P.A. system. Heels clicked on the tiled floor, heavy footsteps thudded, people grumbled, and somewhere in the distance, an awful screeching broke out that Dean would guess was the squeaky wheel of a cart.

“You see him yet?” Dean asked, pressing close to his brother as a woman brushed by him - he could tell it was a woman by the overpowering perfume that clogged his nose. He coughed.

“No, but his plane only landed ten minutes ago,” Sam said. “The bags from his flight aren’t even on the conveyor belt yet.”

“Fantastic. You yell when you see him though, okay?”

Sam huffed, sounding amused. “Yes, Dean.”

Dean shoved him with his shoulder. “You’re the tall one. Do _something_ useful with that giant blood you’ve got in you.”

“Yeah, yeah, very funny.”

Dean’s humor faded. The baggage area had gotten quieter, most likely as people departed with their things.

“Hey, you okay?” Sam asked.

Dean fiddled with the fabric of Sam’s shirt. “Yeah. I just…I hate airports.”

“I hear ya. But Cas will be here soon, and it’ll all be worth it.”

“I know.” Like hell was Dean going to wait at home for Cas to arrive - he refused to waste any time now that Cas had touched back down in the United States, even if Cas was here for good, finally.

And then Sam made a sound just as a mechanical groan echoed through the area. “Okay, so the luggage from his flight is starting to come out. That means he’ll be here soon. Customs shouldn’t take him too long.”

The P.A. system crackled out another announcement, and Dean couldn’t understand the accented voice, not with the static interference. But then he heard the number of Cas’s flight. He sucked in a fearful breath as his heart started to pound faster. “What does that mean? Is something wrong?”

“No, they’re looking for someone else from his flight. Dean it’s _fine_. Also, ow.” Sam’s fingers gently pried off Dean’s vice-grip on his arm.

Dean’s face heated. “Sorry, man.”

“I’d be a wreck, too, if Eileen was away for so long and just coming home.”

Dean let out a weak laugh and fell silent. With each passing minute, anxiety ratcheted higher and higher in his chest, almost so he couldn’t breathe.

When the baggage area flooded with people again, Dean was a nervous wreck. He just wanted his husband. It’d been months since they’d touched, since he’d heard Cas’s voice without the tinny whining of the long-distance phone ruining their connection.

God damn it, where was he?

“Hey! Cas!” Sam called suddenly, and Dean froze. Sam rocked a little, and Dean figured he was waving.

“It’s him?” he asked, his voice choked.

“Yeah. It’s him.”

“Shit.” Tears burned in Dean’s eyes, blurring the vision he had left. But that didn’t matter, not when Cas was _so close_.

“Dean?” came Cas’s low voice, and Dean whimpered. Sam released him, and the next thing Dean knew, a solid, warm body had slammed into him, wrapping tight arms around his torso.

“Dean,” Cas said as they held each other.

Cas smelled like sweat and ketchup and deodorant, but underneath that was the musky spice all his.

“Cas,” Dean said, unashamed that he was crying. He stuck his nose in Cas’s neck and just breathed him in. His fingers clutched at the familiar, rough texture of his military uniform.

And then Cas pulled back only to cradle Dean’s face in his big, warm hands. Dean’s breath hitched, and as a dark shape passed in front of his face, he smiled, for Cas was leaning in to kiss him.

Dean almost forgot where they were and wanted to deepen the embrace, but then Sam spoke. “I’ve got your bag, Cas. This is yours, right?”

“Yes, you got it?”

“I got it. Come on. We’re parked over here.”

As Sam led them to the car, Dean leaned into his husband’s body, letting Cas guide him home.


End file.
